


A Walk in the Park

by autumntea



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bilbo and Thorin are such awkward nerds its no surprise they click, Dog Trainer!Kili, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumntea/pseuds/autumntea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin is reluctant to watch over Kili's dogs for the next few days. He finds that it isn't as bad as he feared, especially when he meets a literature professor who is too cute for his own good at the dog park. Maybe the universe will finally be in his favor for once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Woo, so here is my very first Bagginshield fic!! I'm pretty excited about it! 
> 
> I really, really love dogs and the idea of Kili with dogs.. Somehow it turned to Thorin being a grump with Kili's dogs and being a big nerd because of Bilbo. 
> 
> Beta-ed by my awesome beta Sav :')!!

Thorin should have left the house as soon as his youngest nephew had cornered him, his eyes pleading.

"No."

"Uncle, please!"

"No, Kili," Thorin presses, beginning to walk out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. "Ask Fili or your mother."

"I did!" Kili whines as if he is nine rather than nineteen. He's a bit shorter than Thorin, but taller than his mother and older brother. His hair is dark, long, and wavy, and his chin has the slightest hint of stubble on it. His face has lost the baby fat that clung to his cheeks from birth to adolescence. "Fili has work and mum is going away with Gloin and Bombur's wives this weekend! You're the only one I can turn to, Uncle!"

It was not a surprise that Kili was a dog person, because both his personality and impression of the cliched puppy dog eyes were rather spot on. Not that Thorin would kneel to it of course. He had much practice resisting the famed puppy dog eyes over the past nineteen years.

"You have a lot of friends, don't you? Ask them." Thorin asks, raising a thick, dark eyebrow. His appearance is rather similar to Kili's, but older. He has a larger frame, his beard full and his hair longer with streaks of gray starting to mix into the dark black color.

He pauses as he looks at the couch, looking at Fili's golden English Cocker Spaniel sleeping on Kili's couch for who knew what reason next to Kili's Border Collie. Heaven only knows where Kili's Alaskan Malamute got to.  He adds after a second thought, "I'm not watching Fili's dog either."

"I wasn't going to ask you to!" Kili says with a flare that he only could have gotten from his mother. "And my friends don't know how to take proper care of my dogs! You have some experience, c'mon Uncle!"

Before Thorin says anything else, Kili stalks across the room to the sleeping dogs and gestures to Alexei, the Border Collie. "Look at this face! If I asked Legolas to watch them, then they would have to be near Legolas' father! You wouldn't want them near Thranduil, would you?!"

While he could deal with Legolas and Kili being friends, he could not deal with Thranduil. That almost convinces him. Almost.

"Find someone besides Legolas."

"Uncle, please!" Kili says with a groan.

And a whole new wave of begging begins, at least until Thorin's sister comes home.

* * *

Thorin would never admit this aloud, but his sister Dís could be a rather frightening woman. She was one of the kindest souls Thorin knew, but could instill fear into even the most powerful person.

She also had a knack for winning every argument that they had growing up.

Frerin was lucky, as the baby of the three Durin siblings and having a generally bright and agreeable personality. Being eleven years younger than Thorin, he never really had to deal with the big sibling arguments. Being a year older than Dís was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because Dís was probably the person he was closest to in the world and felt more like a twin than anything. A curse because she knew what buttons to push by now in order to get her way.

Apparently, that included getting her older brother to watch over her youngest son's dogs.

"It will be good for you!" Dís says on Friday evening, patting her brother on the cheek. Dís is shorter than Thorin, but only barely. She is rather similar to him in appearance - long, black hair, a strong jaw, and a sharp nose. Her features are a bit more feminine, her eyes are dark brown unlike Thorin's light blue, and her hair is not peppered with streaks of gray. It was not a surprise to any to find out that they were siblings.

"Who are you to say that?" Thorin grumbles, looking down at the dogs currently running around his flat. Despite being forty-three and with the money he made, Thorin had never found it necessary to find a house. His rather large flat - which, unfortunately, allowed animals - suited him just perfectly.

The Malamute howls happily. Or at least, it seems like happiness.

"Your sister. Now here," Dís shoves an oddly thick piece of folded paper at his chest. "Kili was sweet enough to write you a list of tips on how to take care of the dogs!"

She waves her fingers at him, says "Good bye, dear brother!", and is out of the flat in record time, leaving Thorin and two overly excited dogs in the dust.

He's so glad that Fili hadn't decided to drop his dog off at Thorin's door as well, actually having a plan for his dogs.

Frerin and Fili were the only ones he liked in his family, he decided, as they weren't sicking any animals on Thorin.

* * *

The first night went surprisingly well, without a hitch really.

After Dís left, Thorin sat himself down and began to read Kili's list while the dogs either ran around, jumped on the couch, or laid at Thorin's feet in an attempt to get Thorin to pay attention to them.

The list was oddly thick for a reason - it was four pages long and double sided. It was more like a long list of instructions rather than tips. Thorin could not hide his wonder at the list even if he tried.

God only knew what Kili was thinking.

Part of him almost didn't want to follow the risk because, honestly, it was quite ridiculous how long and overly detailed it was - Thorin did not need to know the proper  way to groom a dog or their sleeping patterns. It was very ridiculous. But he knows that he should. His options were either follow the list and have his family happy with him or disobey the list and have to deal with a very disappointed and upset Kili and/or an angry Dís. Thorin did not know which was worse.

The dogs were surprisingly well behaved, but of course things had to change.

Thorin wakes up on Saturday by a dog jumping on top of him and licking his face until he is conscious.

It's the Border Collie, Alexei - even as a child, Kili had always chosen the strangest names for... well everything. Alexei sees that Thorin is awake and barks in the forty-three years olds face excitedly.

The Alaskan Malamute, Siberia - really, who would name an Alaskan dog after a Russian region? - takes that as her cue to jump on Thorin's king size bed. It doesn't turn out too well.

She lands on Thorin's hair of all places and in that moment, he is glad that there is nobody in the house with him because he makes a sound that is similar to a cat that had been stepped on.

Dís and Frerin always _had_ compared him to an angry Tom Cat.

Siberia seems to understand what she did was wrong and jumps from the bed. She stands at the foot of the bed and sends Thorin the puppy dog eyes.

"Don't do that again." Thorin says, stern and more than a little grumpy but not really angry.

Siberia whines and looks down at her paws. Thorin sighs and pulls back his covers, the wood floor cold underneath his feet when he stands. He scratches the Malamute behind the ears and leaves his room, both dogs on his heels with more eagerness than anything should have at seven AM on a Saturday.

He gives the dogs their breakfast first; it shouldn't be that complicated but Kili always did love proving people wrong. The dogs are completely occupied in their meal, so he makes himself a modest breakfast of cereal. Thorin watches the city below as he eats. Even this early on in the day, the city is awake. London was just one of those busy international cities that never got a moment of rest.

He settles on the couch shortly, the TV playing some mundane reality show that he pays next to no attention to. Thorin reads the news on his phone for a while and the dogs are satisfied enough after their meal that he can get a moment of peace.

It's around eight thirty AM when the dogs begin to steal his attention once more. They're growing restless, rolling around on his floor, making sounds, and walking around aimlessly.

Thorin takes a good look at them and thinks for a good moment before tossing his phone on the sofa. He stands and retreats back into his room in order to get dressed for the day.

A walk might do them all some good.

* * *

Autumn was nearly in full swing.

Leaves are beginning to change color and the wind has a chill to it. It was a mere miracle that it wasn't raining right now.

It's cold enough where Thorin needs to wear his leather jacket, the fur lining and the scarf around his neck keeping him warm. His long hair is gathered in a loose pony tail at the base of his neck, the wind coaxing some of the strands from the hair tie's hold.

Siberia and Alexei are energized by the outdoors, their heads looking everywhere at once. They tug at the leashes, but Thorin keeps a tight grip. They would be able to run free once they got to the dog park a few blocks away.

But first, Thorin makes a stop of his own.

The Ri family had been friends with the Durin family since before Thorin was even born. It had been a full family once upon a time, but as the years passed on the family shrunk or moved away until only the three Ri brothers were in London still.

Dori Ri was the oldest of the three brothers and was even a few years older than Thorin. He cared a lot for hospitality and appearances and ran a rather successful café. He was also surprisingly one of the most terrifying people Thorin knew if you got him angry.

It is Dori who noticed Thorin and the dogs outside. He inclined his head and Dori turned his own head and within minutes the youngest Ri brother was coming out with Thorin's usual order.

Ori was the youngest of the Ri brothers and there was a rather big gap in years between him and his brothers. While Dori was in his fifties, Ori was barely just twenty-five, as their mother decided to wait a while between births, not unlike his own mother's decision with Frerin. Never the less, there probably was not a soul alive that could dislike Ori Ri. He was shy at best and naive, but kind, brave, and sincere.

"Good morning, Mr. Thorin," Ori greets. It had taken a long time of convincing on Dís and Frerin's part to even get Ori to call him Thorin and not 'Mr. Durin' and he _still_ refused to drop the Mister. Dori could be the same at times also. To each their own, he supposed?

"Good morning, Ori. Thanks." He hands Ori a tenner and accepts the coffee - black, no milk, some sugar - and a cinnamon roll after he makes sure the dog leashes are securely wrapped around his wrist. "Is Nori around today?"

Nori was the middle brother - eleven years younger than Dori and fourteen years older than Ori. He was a mischievous and playful man, but a loyal one. Sometimes, Nori worked in the café with his brothers but he was always the "rebellious, free soul" or so Dori had called him. There had been a few incidents where Thorin's best friend and cousin Dwalin had arrested Nori thanks to the man's mischievousness and sticky fingers.

"No..." Ori says and he looks a bit worried. "Dori was mumbling something about Dwalin this morning, though. He looked very cross."

A better question was, when did Dori not look cross when Nori and Dwalin came up in the same sentence?

"Not a surprise. I'll send him your way if I see him."

Ori sends him a sheepish smile in thanks, scratches Alexei behind the ears, and goes back into the cafe.

Thorin takes a sip of his coffee and starts walking forward, the dogs' ears perking up excitedly and jetting forward with such excitement that it nearly makes him stumble.

He enjoys the walk to the park, never often getting to fully appreciate London anymore as much as one would think, after living here for nearly twenty years now. It was different than his childhood, living here and there. He had lived everywhere from Glasgow to the Welsh countryside, to the Florida Keys for the better part of a year or in Russia for two and even more places. His family had finally settled in London and the Durin business empire truly reached its prime twenty something years previous.

A prime that had now passed.

When the business had been passed down into Thorin's hands, it had been in right mess and it took years, but things were finally, finally looking up once again. ("Always look for the silver lining, brother-dear!" He can almost hear Frerin say, like he had when they found out they were officially out of debt.)

Back when things had been bad with the company, it was rare for him to even leave his office, much less his apartment enjoying his day off. Of course, if he really had things his way, he would probably be working on weekends still because really, while things were going good, it was far from perfect. But no, because Dís had strictly forbid him doing any work on weekends anymore and Frerin had joined in automatically, neither of them wanting to see their older brother lead himself into an early grave.

Dís helped heavily with the company, being better with diplomacy and probably business in general than he. Frerin helped as well, his charisma lethal, but he was not the best at the paperwork and other details. Thorin could not blame him really. Frerin was not one to have his own office and a huge stack of paperwork. It would be like clipping the wings off of a bird if he made Frerin sit in an office pushing papers for eight or so hours a day. And he knows that if he asked, Frerin would do it without question. But Thorin knew better and he refused to ever do that, even if that meant a few more stacks of papers to sign and inspect.

He rolls his shoulders and guides the dogs to turn, the park in sight. Kili's list doesn't require him to play with the dogs, but it does require he keep an eye out for them once they go of their leashes, to make sure they don't get themselves lost or in a fight with another dog.

By the time they reach the park, Siberia and Alexei are nearly bouncing in excitement. Siberia even howled once or twice. He lets them out when they are well away from the exit and they linger for a moment, Siberia jumping up in attempt to lick his face and Alexei chasing his own tail. Quickly, they do go off on their own, automatically running around the other but still in sight.

There is only one bench in the direct vicinity and has the best view of the dogs, who are chasing each other's tails but also migrating where there is a group of dogs. One of the dogs is gigantic and black and Thorin thinks it might be a newfoundland, the other three are tiny - a pug, a pomeranian, and a corgi. The problem is, is that the bench is already occupied.

Thorin can't see the person's face because their nose is in a book, but they've got a nest of honey colored curls. They've dressed simply, in a fluffy jacket to keep in warmth and trousers. Thorin can tell that they're a rather rather short person, even at the first look at them, back pressed against the bench, feet dangling slightly above the ground, but he could tell that they were definitely an adult.

"Can I sit here?" The words are awkward on his tongue, but he stands steadfast, looking down at the person on the bench.

The man on the bench looks up and, if Thorin was even being a little honest with himself, he was cute. Really, really cute. Warm green eyes meet his and Thorin has to stop himself from downright staring.

A hand, not petite but definitely smaller than his, leaves the book to tuck a honey colored curl behind an ear. The man on the bench sends Thorin a small smile, his cheeks and button nose rosy from the wind.

"Of course you can." He says, breaking the eye contact and inclining his head. He looks at the group of dogs playing just a bit away and his lips twitch a bit as Thorin sits down at the other edge of the bench.

Thorin can easily see this man owning the corgi, pug, or pomeranian. There was just something that... fit. Probably the fact that all they were all small dogs. Blue eyes glance down at the ground and at feet that hover above the grass. Yes, that's definitely it.

"Are those two dogs yours? The Malamute and the Collie? They're both very lovely looking dogs." The man says, looking at the pack of dogs, that small smile still on his lips.

"They're my nephew's, actually. I'm watching them over the weekend for him." Thorin says and he notices that yes, he is staring.

"Ah, that's nice of you!" The man says, turning to look at Thorin and his smile gets brighter and somehow cuter. This is not fair one bit, Thorin decides. "I have three of them myself! Your nephew must love them a lot, I can see how well cared for from here."

Thorin raises an eyebrow. Really? Did that stuff actually show? How?

"He's practicing to become a trainer, actually. He actually made me a list on things I'll have to do to take care of them properly."

The man nods his head. "Ahhh, I understand that. I have a friend who is like that, as well. He works in a nature preserve in New Zealand now, but when he left, he gave me a pup. Named it after himself, even. He gave me a list on proper care for him that I'm certain it's long enough to be a novel."

Thorin's lips twitch into a small grin. "Who knew there was so much work into taking care of dogs?"

The man inclines his head in agreement. "I certainly didn't, but I still ended up getting two more. But what can I say, I love the little buggers. Oh! How rude of me, I didn't introduce myself! Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"Bilbo," Thorin tests, taking the hand that Bilbo extends his way. The smaller hand is chilly and the name rolls off his tongue sweetly. "Thorin Durin, at yours."

He sees a dull flash of recognition in Bilbo's eyes, but that's it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine."

They make small talk that, in all honesty, should be boring but it isn't. Topics shift rapidly, going from one thing to the next and Thorin finds that they have a good number of things in common. The topic settles on nephews soon enough.

"I have a nephew myself," Bilbo says, eyebrow quirking a bit as the pug begins to waddle away from the group and towards them. There is a small grin stretching his lips, no doubt due to the infamous Dishwasher-Pantyhose incident that happened when Fili was 14 and Kili was 9. "Frodo. He's a very sweet boy; but he causes a little bit of mischief now and then. Nothing on your nephews, I suppose, but one time he did 'accidentally' turn the watering can on me in hopes that I would grow a little taller. His mother nearly busted a lung laughing. He just turned eight. Why hello there, Acorn."

"Keep him away from dishwashers and pantyhose the moment he turns nine." Thorin says wisely as Bilbo picks the pug, Acorn, up and sits the dog in next to him.

"I will try my best." Bilbo says solemnly. "Do you have any tips on dealing with power hungry, dishwasher hating, pantyhose wearing nine year olds?"

"Run fast and far."

Bilbo tsks, green eyes gleaming playfully. "That's not very good advice, now is it? If he overpowers me with the terrifying strength of a nine year old and holds me down, I will haunt you."

Thorin smirks, crossing his legs and placing his now folded hands on his knees. "And pray tell, Mister Baggins, how is a nine year old boy going hold you down and make it so you will haunt me for the rest of my weary, dishwasher hating days?"

"Never doubt the power of pantyhose." Bilbo says with much wisdom. "When used for mischief they are very dangerous."

Thorin drank the rest of his coffee. "You're saying this as if you know from experience?"

Bilbo's eyes twinkle mischievously, starting to pet Acorn. "Who is to say I don't?"

"Really?" Thorin raises an amused eyebrow. "You don't look like the sort of someone who likes pranks."

"Looks can be deceiving," is what Bilbo says calmly, gently swinging his foot in the air.

"I suppose so." Thorin says and at that moment, Acorn decides to give Thorin a look. It's a questionable look that Thorin didn't think a dog was capable of giving. "How long have you had him?"

Bilbo hums thoughtfully. "I've had him for... a little over a year ago? I got Sting a year and a half before that."

"Sting? Like... from _The Police_?" Thorin asks and he can't help but feel silly afterwards.

"It certainly wasn't my intention," Bilbo says, looking far too amused. "Though she does like fields more than any dog I've seen. I imagine she's picturing them as fields of gold."

It's terribly corny, but Thorin chuckles very quietly anyways.

"I have a snake as well." Bilbo adds, scratching Acorn behind the ears after Thorin retracts his hand.  "Smaug. I got him... five years ago? I got Beorn a few months later. It was an accident, but to be honest I’m glad I got him. He is a real sweetheart if you give him the chance, but Prim says that he just likes me."

"I wouldn't blame him." The words roll from Thorin's tongue before he even realizes them and when he does, he stares at Bilbo in poorly concealed horror.

Ah yes. Thorin Durin, the 6 foot 3, muscular, CEO of an infamous company that was slowly coming back up the ranks due to Dís, Balin, and his own careful planning, could not end a non-work related meeting without saying anything either awkward or insulting out of the blue.

Ever since he had been small, his big mouth and tendency to speak before he thought had gotten him into countless trouble and certainly this was not to be of exception.

Green eyes look taken aback for a second, but gain a twinkle to them that could only be described as mischievous. For a moment, Thorin is faintly reminded of Gandalf, his father's old friend and Thorin's sometimes adviser.

"Oh? You wouldn't? Well, I'm flattered." Bilbo says playfully. Thorin is just relieved that he didn't completely ruin the whole conversation because this... was nice.

It's then that a song - Thorin can't place it but knows it's from the Top 40 - cuts through the air, Bilbo automatically digging into his pocket and pulling out a phone.

"Prim? Good afternoon... Oh really? That's terrible. Uh huh. Uh huh..... Of course I'll watch him for you, only if you tell Lobelia off for me. Oh? Okay, deal. I'll be there soon, I've got the dogs with me."

Bilbo hangs up, tucks his phone back into his coat pocket, the book on his lap back into the bag at his feet Thorin didn't see before, and looks up at Thorin looking a little... discouraged, for lack for a better word. "I'm gonna have to go. I have a nephew to watch. Luckily, I don't have to deal with pantyhose yet."

Thorin rubs his chin thoughtfully, trying not to feel disappointed. Bilbo was very cute and honestly, it was turning out to be a better day than he expected. "At least your nephew isn't 19 and still trying to scale the curtains. It's a shame though... I was...enjoying talking to you."

Bilbo inclines his head, standing up and God, Thorin was right-he _is_ short. If he stood up right now he would guess that Bilbo maybe just reached his shoulder.

"I enjoyed talking to you, too." He starts, before turning his attention to the group of dogs still playing. "Sting! Beorn! It's time to go!"

The corgi comes running first, its tiny legs running quick, but the Pomeranian does not follow like Thorin expects it to when he looks up. No, instead the gigantic Newfoundland is running to the bench at full speed. Siberia and Alexei follow after them. Who knows what happens to the Pomeranian, because Thorin is completely focused on the gigantic dog running right towards them, tongue flopping out of its mouth and everything.

When the dog reaches Bilbo, it stands on its hind legs and rests its front paws on Bilbo's shoulders, licking the small man's cheek. And, Christ, the dog is even taller than Bilbo, who seems unfazed by the whole thing.

"Get down Beorn, you're going to crush me." Bilbo scolds, the tone in his voice hinting that this happens often.

Beorn listens and Bilbo takes the opportunity to search in his bag for leashes, expertly attaching them to his dogs' collars. Thorin definitely doesn't check out his arse when he bends down to put Acorn on the ground or to attach the leashes. And he most certainly does not think that Bilbo has a lovely round backside, thank you very much.

"Y'know," Bilbo says and Thorin moves his gaze back to eye level as quick as he can while Bilbo turns, hoping that he wasn't caught. Judging the complete amused look and raised eyebrow that Bilbo sends his way, he was definitely caught, but luckily BIlbo doesn't say anything. "It's a shame I've got to go now, but who knows, maybe your nephew will need a babysitter for his dogs again? I'm always here on Saturday mornings. I'll be seeing you."

And Bilbo begins to walk away, leaving Thorin a bit stunned and barely enough time to say a "See you."

If he watches Bilbo walk away, his hips swaying a bit too much for it to not be on purpose, before turning back to Siberia and Alexei, then that is Thorin's own business.

Thorin pets Siberia's head, both dogs looking at him expectantly.  
  
"...Maybe I'll ask Kili if I can take you guys on more walks."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! The past few months have been kind of hectic for me, oops. But, on the plus side this is actually pretty long! So long that I had to split it into a third part, which should hopefully be out soon!!
> 
> Beta-ed by Sav once again :')

Bilbo wakes up on Saturday a little later than he usually does. The first thing that connects in his sleep addled mind is that Beorn, Sting, and Acorn are all curled up on his bed with him, something that is not unusual in the slightest. He props himself up on his elbows and smiles, sleepy but warm. His dogs are really something.

He hears a clear hiss and feels the ghost of a tongue on his wrist. He looks down and sees his red corn snake slithering up his arm.

Smaug is really something as well.

Sometimes Bilbo thinks that it would be more fitting for Smaug to be a cat rather than a snake. 

Bilbo reaches out and pets Smaug's smooth, scaly red and orange skin, his touch a little more than a ghost. The corn snake leans its head into Bilbo's fingers. A part of Bilbo thinks that, if he could, Smaug would be purring right now. 

"Hello there, what are you doing out of your tank?" 

Smaug hisses, continuing to slither up Bilbo's arm. 

Bilbo rolls his eyes fondly and sits up straight. The air in his room is warm, the thirty six year old never being all terribly fond of the cold, so he doesn't exactly have to worry about Smaug getting too chilly, seeing as Smaug often refused to stay in his aquarium. No matter what Bilbo did, the snake would find a way out somehow. Bilbo could understand... sort of. He just knew that he undoubtedly wouldn't want to be stuck in a cage of any sort either. 

A quick glimpse at the clock on his bedside table tells him that, yes, it is rather late. It's nine, considerably later than when he usually wakes up. On weekdays, he wakes up at six - sometimes five - in order to get to the University on time, all while cursing himself and Gandalf, his mother's old friend and technically his godfather who got him the job in the first place, for having to teach his first class at eight. It didn't matter that his first class of the day was actually... pretty nice or that his students liked him and vice versa. It only mattered _after_ he had a large cup of coffee running through his system. 

Of course, that didn't necessarily matter at the moment considering that he was still on vacation for a few more days. 

It was early January, the cold now in full swing. Christmas and New Years had been nice, as was the general vacation he got considering he planned his syllabus for after the holidays well in advanced. The time he got to spend with Frodo was nice - more frequent than usual because of both his vacation and Prim figuratively throwing her eight year old at Bilbo so he didn't catch his father's cold. 

Being able to work on the mainly neglected collection of windowsill plants and the nicely sized stack of books he hadn't been able to find the time to get to was something that Bilbo found nice as well - relaxing, even. 

Bilbo reaches for his phone blindly, finding it halfway under Beorn somehow. He gives the Newfoundland that takes up a good amount space on Bilbo's bed a gentle pat on the side just for good measure. Beorn huffs happily in his sleep. 

He unlocks it lazily, not really expecting notifications to pop up but is pleasantly surprised.

Ah yes, the texts he got were very nice as well, for all of their simplicity.

Not that it had anything to do with _who_ was sending them, of course.

 

> **From: Thorin (9:04 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
> running a late this morning. i'll have a coffee with ur name on it.

Bilbo's eyes flick up to check the precise time. He lets out a quiet cuss.

 

> **To: Thorin (9:20 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
> Hey sorry, but I can guarantee I'm going to be even later. I just woke up :-(. You don't need to buy me coffee.   
>    
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (9:23 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
> 2 late. don't sweat it, i just got here and... it looks like the owner needs help with something.   
>    
> 
> 
> **To: Thorin (9:24 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
> Ah, what a wonderful man. I'm going to have to buy you lunch now, you fiend. Good luck; tell Dori to not do anything that I wouldn't.
> 
> **From: Thorin (9:30 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
> that's surprisingly little.  
>    
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (9:31 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
> and am I wonderful, or a fiend? if anything ure fickle.  
> 
> 
> **To: Thorin (9:33 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
>  I know :^). And both at once, I suppose. A wonderful fiend. Also, I am certainly not fickle.   
> 
> 
> **To: Thorin (9:33 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
> Also would it hurt you to use proper grammar?   
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (9:38 - 10/1/2015)**
> 
> ty i try. & yea it would sry not sry

Bilbo rolls his eyes and chuckles, setting his phone down before going to the small balcony attached to his flat to have a cigarette as his dogs eat breakfast. 

The past few weeks in correspondence with Thorin had been absolutely wonderful and honestly, he was just so glad that he had had the nerve to even ask the older, admittedly very fit, man for his number. 

* * *

_The second Saturday after Bilbo met Thorin, the much taller and devastatingly fit man was back, this time with an English Cocker Spaniel running around him._

_"Sophie." Thorin had grunted, looking tired and his glare so strong that it was a surprise that the bench he glared out hadn't melted. "She's my eldest nephews', but I'm pretty sure he only got her from his brother just to bother me."_

_"Really?"_

_"...probably not, but you never know with those two."_

_"It sure seems like it. After all, not even uncle has to keep a careful eye out to make sure his nephew doesn't have any mysterious pantyhose anywhere near a dishwasher."_

_"At least someone understands."_

_"I'm going to have to, if Frodo goes down the same path." Bilbo had replied_

_Bilbo hesitated a moment before he gathered the courage to utter, "Congratulations, by the way. I read the paper yesterday."_

_The day previous to this particular meeting, several papers and news outlets had basically caused a circus - Erebor, once a great company, was rising through the ashes of the mess that a one Thror Durin and Gundabad Corporation inflicted. In one day, the announcement of deals that certainly not easy to come by in the business world - Imaldris, for God's sake, was among them - not to mention they had announced the return of the lavish businesses and products that had garnered them international fame twenty-something years ago._

_For certain it had been a surprise to see the CEO of Erebor himself, looking grumpy because of the English Cocker Spaniel that basically led him -  the day after all this was announced._

_Thorin cleared his throat and looked more awkward than anyone Bilbo had seen - and Bilbo taught for a living._

_"Thanks. Do you... err, know a lot about this stuff?" Thorin had replied, and honestly this had been one of the most awkward yet endearing things Bilbo had ever seen._

_"Not really no, but my mum worked for Erebor for a little while nearly thirty years ago. She was a freelance journalist, but dabbled in a little bit of everything. Erebor hired her to write a few things. I'm not entirely too sure what for, but I vaguely remember her being very excited about it when I was about... eight? Maybe. I know that she would have been really excited about all of this."_

_"Ahh, yeah... Back when my grandfather was in charge, he hired a few journalists and travel writers to write reviews and visit the locations of hotels and businesses we owned in order to sell more. It worked... for a while." Thorin's face had darkened a bit, eyebrows furrowed and mouth drawn into a taut line._

_"Ah, but you're clearing everything up aren't you? Erebor is back on the market. Very quickly, might I add. My colleagues in the business department have been completely floored at Erebor's progress over the past few months. You're just lucky business isn't my field or else I would be talking your ear off about your job on your day off." Bilbo had finished, with no small hint of irony._

_Thorin had smirked at that, all previous discomfort and tension gone. "What is your profession, if it's not business?"_

_"I teach Literature. Mum was a journalist and a travel writer, dad owned a bookstore. I followed their path, in a way."_

_"Your family must really love books."_  
  


_"True. Ever since I could read, my nose has been in a book. But what about you? Do you read?" And like that, the subject had been refreshed._  
  


_The conversation was easy and continued to be so even when Bilbo had looked down, checked his watch and said, "It's already noon... To be honest, I'm bloody starving, would you like to get something to eat?"_  
  


_And Thorin... well he agreed. He had even suggested a place that was dog friendly._  
  


_Talking to Thorin was just... so easy. They had a good number of things in common and the things they disagreed on, they didn't start World War III over. It was nice._  
  


_So, when Bilbo and Thorin were parting ways on that day two weeks after they first met, Bilbo gathered all of his nerve and asked for Thorin's number._  
  


_After all, who knew what circumstances life would bring them next? There was a possibility that they could have never met again, that meeting twice already was just a fluke. But there was something about Thorin that made Bilbo not want it to be fluke._  
  


_He was both charismatic and awkward at the same time, something that made absolutely no sense to Bilbo. There was something electrifying about Thorin that Bilbo could feel even only having met him twice. And, admittedly, Thorin was also devastatingly attractive, but honestly Bilbo just... wanted to be friends with the older man._  
  


_There was just something that Bilbo couldn't explain then, now, and possibly not in the future. Gut feelings were weird like that._

 

* * *

January turns into February quickly enough and for the first time in days, it's not raining. 

Thorin wears his hair down, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. It had been a busy week and he had had to stay overnight at the office twice, trying to sort things out. Frerin had been an extensive help, keeping Thorin awake, sorting the paperwork into more appropriate subcategories, and making sure that Thorin was actually eating. Also, Frerin was so much better at convincing Dís to do things. Their sister had left earlier in the week, much to the approval of all of their family. She and Vili were in Vienna, celebrating both Valentine's day and their anniversary. Dís had wanted to call off her trip early and come and help with the situation, but luckily Frerin had convinced her to stay, that she needed the vacation.

If anything could be said about Dís Lee-Durin, it would probably be that she was one of the most stubborn and hardworking people on the planet. Though, many might say that fit the whole of the Durin family. 

Thorin was glad that Dís was getting a well deserved rest, that the week was finally over, and that everything had been settled and was everything was back on track. 

Yes, Thorin is definitely in a good mood today, despite needing a good rest. 

The person he was walking to go see might have just the slightest impact on that, if he were to be honest.

He doesn't have Kili's dogs with him today - his youngest nephew had been ecstatic all month about how he had a Valentine's date with some girl and her own dogs - but that doesn't really matter. It wouldn't be the first time that he and Bilbo met at the park with Kili's dogs. 

No, that had met like this a few Saturday's actually, when the weather wasn't too bad. If anything, they met like this more often than not. The first time it had happened had been very awkward and Thorin had made up a half-assed excuse at the last second ("My nephew said he wanted to see me, but he wasn't too sure if he could make it. I came just in case he and the dogs do come."). Bilbo looked at him with such an endearing look, even if it did make Thorin feel like he was five years old again and his mother was catching him red handed with the cookie jar. That day, however, had been a good one and Thorin had left the park feeling happier than he had been when had and a phone number richer.

Bilbo, luckily, never questioned Thorin on why he kept coming to the dog park and sitting on the same bench with the literature professor who actually had dogs, especially after they started texting.

Thorin leads himself down the now familiar pathway to their usual spot and it's not long until he sees Beorn chasing Acorn around, Sting rolling around in the grass nearby. Bilbo sits on their usual bench, reading a book like he always does when he gets to the park first. It doesn't take long for Bilbo to notice Thorin.

The younger man looks up from his book when Thorin gets near the bench, quickly closes his book, and gives Thorin a bright smile, the corners of his green eyes slightly wrinkling with the faint beginnings of laughter lines. There is a thin cigarette burning in between his lips, a knitted scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. 

"Happy Valentine's Day." Bilbo says a bit playfully, reaching over to his side to grab a coffee which he extends in Thorin's direction. 

It's very simple - they had been buying each other coffee for weeks now, the two of them agreeing that Dori's cafe arguably sold some of the best coffee they had ever tasted and whoever convinced Dori to sell to go cups was a godsend. (Well, Bilbo hadn't agreed at that point, but he looked incredibly amused and had muttered "He'll get a kick out of that." Thorin hadn't even tried to understand.) - but something about it makes Thorin inexplicably... giddy. 

Here he was, a grown man, feeling overly giddy and maybe just a little flushed over a simple cup of coffee.

Bloody hell, Thorin didn't even _like_ Valentine's day. 

"Thank you." Thorin responds, taking the cup and sitting down on the bench - far away enough so their shoulders wouldn't touch, but close enough for their knees to brush. "If only I had known. I would've gotten you something in return. Scones? Some kind of biscuit." 

Bilbo's playful tone doesn't disappear with his next words, catching up on Thorin's sarcasm. "Don't worry about it. You can buy me coffee next Valentine's day. Next week also, if you're particularly torn up about it." 

Thorin takes a sip of his coffee - black, no milk, four sugars, perfect - and looks at Bilbo wryly as he swallows. "I would have ended up buying it anyways."

"Ah yes, that's right. Silly me, I must have forgotten." If the sarcasm in Bilbo's voice was anymore noticeable, it would be like he outright said, _"Hello Thorin, I'm feeling particularly sarcastic today, as always!"_

At that point, Sting notices him and comes running, yipping happily and quickly tries to bounce onto Thorin's lap. Thorin looks down at the happy bouncing corgi and after a moment, picks her up and deposits her onto his lap. 

Bilbo crushes his cigarette against the bench, waving the lingering smoke away, sets his book on the bench, and gets up to toss the butt in the nearby bin. Bilbo was particularly adamant on not littering the butts in the park, not wanting his dogs or any other dogs to eat it and get sick.

"You know," Bilbo says, still looking at Thorin from above his book, the curiosity in his green eyes clear as he adjusts his scarf to cover more of his neck and cheeks. "you look really tired." 

"Do you want to go pick up something? Or I can make you something to eat. You really look like you could really use a good home cooked meal. I can cook pretty well, you know." 

"You sure do know how to spoil someone on Valentine's day, don't you?"

Bilbo smirks wryly, but - if Thorin's eyes aren't deceiving him - his ears are turning a bit red from where they poke out of his scarf. "Just call me Cupid, hm?"

They sit together like so as time passes, Sting still sitting on Thorin's lap and enjoying herself immensely as Thorin pets her. Conversation is light, but comfortable, and just before they agree on going back to Bilbo's for lunch, they're interrupted.

"Uncle?" A voice cuts through and at once Thorin and Bilbo both turn their heads to see a handsome young man with blond hair that is gathered in a ponytail. He has a little more than stubble that definitely has potential to be a great beard and light blue eyes. The same shade as Thorin's eyes, actually. Next to him is an equally blond and familiar English Cocker Spaniel, who looks at Sting on Thorin's lap with interest. 

Thorin freezes, his eyes widening as soon as he sees the beginnings of a smirk curve his nephews lips. A breathes a curse as Fili and Sophie walk in their direction.

"I sure wasn't expecting to see you here Valentine's day, Uncle." Fili says, his wolf-like grin so much like his mother's that it scares Thorin a little bit. While Fili looked very much like his father, he was definitely his mother's son personality wise. Kili was the one who was more like his father - and Frerin at that matter - to a certain point personality wise. It was like Thorin was cursed. Sophie is quickly interested in Sting, who perches on Thorin's lap, trying to sniff at the larger dog.

"Shut up, Fili." He hisses, and God damn it, Fili only looks more amused.

"How rude, Uncle! I'm only saying hello! I didn't expect to see you here, with a _friend_ , even." Thorin really does not like the emphasis his oldest nephew puts on the word 'friend.' It gives him an unpleasant sense of foreboding.

Alas, it was too late to run away.

"Fili Lee-Durin, nice to meet you! I'm Thorin's nephew. So you're my uncle's friend?" Fili says, extending a hand to Bilbo. God damn it, he is still putting too much emphasis on the word 'friend.' Thorin hated his family. Luckily, somehow, Bilbo seemed to not notice. How, Thorin had no clue, but the curly haired man takes Fili's hand and smiles up at the twenty four year old.

"Bilbo Baggins. Yes, we're friends. We met up here actually and we've kind of been meeting up during the weekend." Bilbo says, complete picture of innocence. 

Fili is anything but, his aquamarine eyes gleaming and looking like the cat who ate the canary. His eldest nephew, - his heir, the boy who was basically a son to him - looked like he was having the time of his life, while Thorin... Well, Thorin felt the exact opposite.

"Oh really, you don't say!" Fili replies, completely polite except for his shit eating grin. "So you guys  just sit here and talk?"

"Well, mainly. We go out to eat sometimes also." Bilbo was starting to look a bit confused and almost uncomfortable at Fili's questions. Thorin decided that, while he wanted to see Bilbo more, he definitely didn't want any his family to be around Bilbo for any longer, lest they scare away the cute man. God, Bilbo had even just offered to bring Thorin to his place and _make him food_. Thorin could no longer ground him, but Fili was so going to get it.

"Ah, sorry Bilbo!" Thorin interrupts before Fili can open his mouth again, scooping Sting into his arms and standing up very quickly. He deposits her on the ground and sends a truly apologetic look to Bilbo, who looks up at him bemused. 

He looks very cute confused, Thorin allows himself to think.

"I actually had some work that I needed to do today, I just wanted to take a break and see you for a bit." Thorin grimaces a little bit, feeling his face flush at how _awkward_ he sounds. "Fili here, is going to help me out. Thank you for the coffee.

Bilbo's bemused expression turns into an amused one, a small smile curving his plump pink lips. Not that Thorin's eyes ever lingered on Bilbo's lips or he ever wondered what it would be like to lightly trace them with his fingertips, or how it would feel to kiss the most likely soft lips. Absolute not. 

"I see... I'll see you next week then?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll put a rain check on making you lunch, but you really should get some rest soon." 

"I'll try my best." Thorin responds, smiling tentatively at the man on the bench. 

With that, he starts to drag Fili off. Of course, his nephew has to say a very loud goodbye to Bilbo.

While Fili was definitely the calmer and more polite of Thorin's nephew, he was still a little monster.

"So, that's where you've been going every Saturday when mum tries to hunt you down." Fili breaks the silence when they're out of earshot. "This _friend_ of yours is even make you lunch, huh? I like him."

The glare he rests on his nephew would have paralyzed a weaker man...Or rather, anyone who wasn't completely immune to his grumpy attitude, or so the rest of his family said.

"Shut up, Fili." He repeats, pulling his own scarf over his face, hoping that his nephew won't see the flush on his cheeks at the promise of a homemade lunch.

Fili definitely wasn't the only one who liked Bilbo. 

* * *

Thorin really regrets in not investing in a better lock for his office door. 

No, he really regrets giving Balin a key to his office because the old goat made copies and gave everyone in Thorin's damn family a key to use at their own discretion.

Which meant that Balin, for some sick reason, gave Frerin a key. Frerin. His loud little brother that acted like Fili and Kili, if not worse, despite being thirty two.

When he hears the lock click and the doorknob turn, Thorin barely has enough time to look up from his laptop before his brother storms in.

"You have a boyfriend?!" Frerin basically screams, making his way over to Thorin's desk. Where Thorin and Dís had dark hair, Frerin was the opposite. Long blond hair was tied into a tiny ponytail, slightly suntanned skin seems to glow, even in a suit, and honestly, if you put anyone in a room with Frerin for two seconds, they would be able to feel the eagerness and excitement that he seemed to radiate almost. There is a scar on Frerin's friendly face, right above his eyebrow and curving down to his cheekbones. Thorin remembered the day that Frerin had gotten the scar very well. Frerin had been ten at the time and Thorin had been twenty, visiting home from university for the first time in weeks which made Frerin... even more excitable than he always was. In his excitement at seeing Thorin's car pull up at their old home, Frerin had fallen out of the tree he had been climbing.

To this day, Thorin can remember the fear at seeing his baby brother fall from the tree and running out of his car. Dís had been there too with Fili, who had only been a few months old at that point, and had gotten to Frerin first. But Frerin, blood slowly starting to drip down his face and tears quickly spilling over had only managed to smile happily when Thorin came into his sight again. 

A smile that was all too familiar to the one Frerin was wearing now.

"I don't have a boyfriend." Thorin corrects with a shake of his head.

"Fili said you did though! He saw you and this guy getting real cozy." Frerin's happy grin quickly turns into a shit-eating one and the blond wiggles his eyebrows.

Thorin scoffs. "We weren't getting cozy."

"So you do admit Fili saw you on a date? Apparently, you got it bad." The thirty two year old basically bounces as he finishes his question.

_Note to self: disown Fili.  
_

"It wasn't a date. I was with a friend and yes, Fili saw us talking. I'm not dating Bilbo." Thorin replies calmly, hoping that his own words will coax away the heat he feels creeping up his neck. 

It would have been a nice date admittedly, but--no, Thorin had to stop himself there. He had too much on his plate right now to even consider dating and even if he _could_ , Bilbo probably wouldn't even be interested. Bilbo was far too lovely for someone like Thorin, but he digresses. 

"I guess we really can't barge in anymore if this Bilbo so happens to stop by, then. Don't wanna see what happens between closed doors." Frerin drawls obnoxiously, winking at his older brother. 

Unfortunately for Thorin, Frerin left the room quickly and shut the door behind him even quicker. The stapler Thorin chucked at Frerin hit the door, leaving a large dent in the wood, and landed on the floor, staples scattering everywhere.

Thorin wondered if it was too late to sell his brother to the circus.

Hell, he wonders if it's too late to sell Dís to the circus too because when he sees her later at lunch, already sitting next to a grinning Frerin, she's examining her long and probably lethal nails, the picture of absolute calm before she asks, "So, who is this Bilbo I've been hearing so much about and why haven't I met him yet?" 

Was it too late for him to run away from home and join the circus himself? Or, even better yet, commit fratricide?

* * *

> **From: Thorin (6/3/15 - 12:36)**
> 
> wanna get lunch? y/n? 

Bilbo stares down at his phone as his students quickly leave the classroom to their next classes. This... 

This was new.

Over the past few months of knowing each other, Bilbo and Thorin... really only met up over Saturdays. That's just how it was. They texted over the week and if the weather wasn't horrendous, they would meet up. Not always at the dog park either. Sometimes they met up for lunch and on two separate rainy Saturdays he had convinced Thorin to go to this quaint little book shop with him. Thorin had even been over to Bilbo's for lunch, a the Saturday after Valentines Day. Hell, last weekend they had gone to the bloody cinema together and Bilbo couldn't even focus on the movie because he had been too busy focusing on the six foot five man next to him and how it had felt awfully similar to a date. 

But this... was different. 

They had never met in the middle of the week before. They had met on Fridays before and after work and on Sunday once or twice, but never in the middle of the week. Usually both of them were too busy during the week to meet up, but to be honest, Bilbo had found himself wishing that they were both less busy on more than one occasion. Not to mention several of his students and friends - most noticeably his best friends Bofur and Nori who teased him endlessly because of the one time Bilbo had accidentally stuck his elbow in a pudding due to Bofur bringing up Thorin - had caught his zoning out and thinking about Thorin. Not that a good majority of them knew what he was thinking of.

> **To: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:03)**  
>    
>  I would love to :-)  
>    
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:03)**
> 
> aye thats good bby ill see u soon ;)))))   
>    
> 
> 
> **To: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:04)**
> 
> What???  
>    
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:11)**  
>    
>  I'm so sorry that was my younger brother. He stole my phone. Don't listen to anything he says, ever.  
>    
> 
> 
> **To: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:14)**
> 
> Well if it means you will use proper grammar, then it's definitely not a problem. Frerin, right? Does that mean no lunch?  
>    
> 
> 
> **From:  Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:15)**
> 
> shush. hes an even bigger menace than my nephews. but no, i was asking 4 lunch.  
>    
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:16)**
> 
> ugh, or maybe not because Frerin is reading over my shoulder and wants 2 go to lunch with us now and is being a nuisance.  
>    
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:18)**
> 
> DO NtV LISTENEE TO H UKIM BABAE I. M. NO I T DNNAKAJRBDA A NUSISEANCE :)_;$:@;$_($$$$$$$$ ;;;))))(_$))(

Bilbo looks down at his phone in mild bewilderment, confused and a little concerned, but generally amused as he types his response. 

> **To: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:20)**
> 
> I wouldn't mind him coming to lunch :-)   
>    
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:20)**
> 
> Y ESSS I LOVE. UU ALREWDY TGIRORIN IS SSUCH A STICNK VIN YHE MUD NNMM.  
>    
> 
> 
> **From: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:22)**
> 
> he snatched my phone again. u r probably going 2 regret letting him join us for lunch.  
>    
> 
> 
> **To: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:23)**
> 
> Did you have to wrestle him to get the phone back? and I probably wont... probably... he seems fun. Reminds me a bit of my two best friends already. Bloody hell.

Bilbo, for a fact, was definitely not thinking of Thorin wrestling anybody, thank you very much. He was absolutely not thinking of Thorin's usual button up shirt straining against his biceps, or how his some of his hair probably would have fallen from his always present ponytail, or how his gaze would have darkened, and he definitely, absolutely, positively did not think of Thorin directing that gaze at _him_ , pinning him down easily with a strong hand and towering over Bilbo who writhed undernea-

Bilbo nearly punches himself in the face by getting out of his chair so quickly. He clears his throat and desperately ignores the flush he feels on his cheeks. Those definitely were not appropriate thoughts to have, especially during office hours.

...It was probably sad at how frequently his thoughts went on that kind of track, office hours or no.

God, he feels like a teenager again and not in a good way.

> **From: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:24)**
> 
> yea, I did actually. frerin is a monster. u need a ride?  
>    
> 
> 
> **To: Thorin (6/3/15 - 13:27)**
> 
> Yes please :-)

Twenty minutes later, Bilbo is in front of the university, waiting for Thorin and his brother to show up. The professor is looking down at his phone, reading over a very confusing and possibly drunk text Bofur had sent him not too long ago, so he doesn't pay much attention to his surroundings until a shiny red car pulls up.

"Aye how's it goin'?" the person in the car says, wearing sunglasses. He's blond, has a lightly stubbled beard and is smirking up at Bilbo playfully, absolutely oozing confidence and mischief. That is, until a hand swoops in and slaps the back of his head so hard that his sunglasses fly off of his face and onto his lap, exposing a bright, familiar blue.

"Frerin!" A very familiar deep voice that certainly did not make Bilbo's toes curl rumbles.

"Ow!" The man, who had to at least be thirty, whines rubbing at the back of his head. "What was that for?!" 

"You're being a nuisance." Thorin leans over from the passenger side, looking very disgruntled but delicious, and sends Bilbo a grimace. "Sorry about that. You can still back out, you know. I wouldn't blame you." 

Frerin looks offended, but the mischievous spark in his ice blue eyes makes Bilbo think that he probably didn't take offense in it at all and simply just wanted to give his brother hell, but the professor decides to get in the car regardless.

"Not gonna scare me off that easy." Bilbo shrugs and he isn't sure if he's imagining the pleased look in Thorin's eyes or not. 

"I'm not a nuisance at all! Shut up, Thor!" 

"Stop being one and I will." Thorin says easily, reaching over to flick on the radio. 

There is something... refreshing about seeing Thorin and his brother together but Bilbo can't quite put his finger on it. 

Frerin sings or hums along lowly to whatever comes on the radio - older songs from the 80s or the top 40, he does not discriminate - while he drives them to a small restaurant Bilbo had never been to before. It's small, but not overly so. It is perfectly comfortable, with little nooks for every table and part of Bilbo just wanted a warm drink and a book and curl up here, on the soft leather booth. And it would be nice if Thorin, who sat across from him and next to Frerin, stayed there with him if he actually ended up dozing off. But Bilbo was getting ahead of himself here.

Frerin asks him a suspicious amount of questions, and quite a lot of them make Thorin look as if he wishes he weren't there - ("So you're a Professor?" Frerin asks in between sips of his drink, looking at Bilbo with curiosity shining in his blue eyes.

"Yes; literature and occasionally history." 

"Oooh... So does anyone ever mistake you for a student?" 

Thorin groans and wastes no time raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.) - but it is honestly very hard to not like Frerin. The blond man was bubbly, mischievous, and it was honestly hilarious to watch him and Thorin interact. Throughout the lunch, Bilbo could see more and more similarities between the brothers, physically and otherwise. Frerin was just a lot louder, enthusiastic, and mischievous than Thorin, but Bilbo could definitely see the similarities. Frerin had gotten mock serious for a moment or two and the resemblance between him and his brother was uncanny.

Overall, Bilbo has a very nice time.

"You don't need a ride back, do you?" Frerin inquires as he stands up to leave, swinging his key chain around the tips of his finger.

"No, I'll walk back." Thorin answers, brushing his long ponytail off of his shoulder. 

"Okie dokie. It was great meeting you Bilbo! We should do this again!" Frerin beams at Bilbo, all teeth. 

Bilbo inclines his head. "That would be nice." 

Frerin leaves with a last cheerful wave, and now it is just Thorin and Bilbo alone at the table that feels all too big now. 

"Do you have to go back to work soon?" Thorin asks after a good moment, stirring his coffee idly.

Bilbo shakes his head, resting his elbows on the table in order to support his head with his curled up fists. He smiles at Thorin. 

"I finished my last class when I received your first text. I'm free for the rest of the day." 

Thorin hums and toys around with the spoon for another moment or two before asking, "Do you want to head out then? Go on a walk, maybe?" 

Bilbo nods, sitting up straight in his chair and stretching his arms high above his head. He doesn't see the way Thorin's eyes flick to the small patch of skin that peaks up while he stretches; mainly because Thorin quickly looks away, not wanting to be caught. The faint flush on his cheeks is nearly unnoticeable. 

"Sounds good to me. Lets go." 

Thorin insists on paying for lunch despite Bilbo urging him to split the bill - ("I invited you for lunch Bilbo, I'm not letting you pay.") - and then they leave quickly, perhaps walking a little too closely than necessary, shoulders and elbows bumping.

It's a cloudy day and a bit chilly for March, but it's not unbearable. The conversation is slow, but comfortable. They talk about the odd things that Thorin's employees or Bilbo's students did, about any new books they had been reading, and anything that naturally came up.

They're about ten minutes away from Bilbo's flat, but not necessarily walking there, when the sky rumbles and it quickly starts drizzling. 

Thorin and Bilbo run under the first awning they can find, already slightly damp as people start whipping out their umbrellas.

"I left my umbrella in Frerin's car." 

"I didn't even bring mine." Bilbo admits, brushing his damp golden curls out of his face and thinking of the polka dot umbrella that sat in his apartment.

"I guess we're waiting until it settles down." 

And, as if just to spite Thorin, the drizzle turns into a downpour. 

   
"Or... we can make a run for it, if you'd like; my flat is about ten minutes away." 

Thorin hums in consideration, rubbing his beard. He thinks for one moment and then two, before looking down at Bilbo, icy blue eyes shining with a mischievousness that made his resemblance to Frerin a lot clearer. "What are we waiting for then?"

He feels a little bit like a kid again, running around in the rain with his cousins and mother, completely soaked but feeling free. He keeps having to push his wet curls out of his eyes and spares a look at Thorin who vaguely looks like a drowned cat, his ponytail loose and the dark strands of bis hair sticking to his face. Even his beard is wet, but Thorin looks like he's having fun as well. Bilbo couldn't help the grin even if he tried.

They're both soaked to the bone when they get to Bilbo's flat, Thorin's long hair - having escaped his hairtie a block or two ago - plastered to his face and his suit likely ruined, but the small amused smile on his face shows that he doesn't seem to care much.

Bilbo unlocks the door and right away he can hear his dogs rushing forward. Sure enough, Beorn jumps on Bilbo as soon as he opens the door and nearly knocks the short man off of his feet, if it weren't for Thorin catching him, his large warm hands firmly grabbing him by the hips.

Thorin doesn't squeeze, despite how much Bilbo admittedly would like him too, but the feeling of the large hands made Bilbo's heart beat just a bit faster and brought thoughts that, admittedly, were far from innocence.

"C'mon," Bilbo orders, grabbing Thorin's hand for the second time that day and dragging him to the bathroom. Part of him wonders how Thorin could feel so warm even after being drenched with rain. You know, Bilbo really had to have a talk with the part of his mind that noticed things about Thorin's body when he was wet and his white dress shirt was somewhat see through and clinging to Thorin's abdomen, showing that yes, Thorin definitely had abs that Bilbo really wanted to touch. He wasn't going to of course, but the temptation was there.

Similarly, the temptation to bash his head into the wall is incredibly strong, but Bilbo must have amazing willpower because he resists. Thorin probably wouldn't take it too well if Bilbo just started doing that. 

He tries hard to not notice how Thorin's wet suit pants cling just a little too tightly when Thorin walks to the kitchen.

He fails. 

"I already know I probably don't have anything your size, but I'll check if I have anything." Bilbo informs and leaves the room before Thorin could protest or he could get distracted again.

He changes himself, checks that Smaug is in his tank remembering from an earlier conversation that Thorin is not fond of snakes in the slightest, and then picks the the largest clothes he has in his closet that were saved for lazy days and retreats back into the kitchen where he last left Thorin and freezes while he crosses the threshold.

While Bilbo had retreated, Thorin decided to rid himself of his shirt and now attempted to wring out the excess water out over Bilbo's sink, his back to Bilbo. And what a back it was.

With every twist of his shirt - part of Bilbo cringes at the thought of how wrinkled Thorin is making it - Thorin's back muscles strain against skin, shoulder blades shifting. 

It is a really lovely back, well muscled, the line of his spin prominent all the way down to his hips and he wants to _lick it_.

Bilbo can't stop staring and he is probably going to hell for this. Luckily, he miraculously snaps out of it by the time Thorin turns around. It takes an immense amount of willpower to not look at Thorin's chest that is probably as nice as his back.

"I... I have a bathroom, you know." Bilbo offers, sounding slightly strangled and feeling all too warm for someone who was just out running in the rain like a child.

"I was cold." Thorin shrugs, accepting the clothes and letting Bilbo point him to the restroom. 

Bilbo just stands there for a moment, running a hand through his damp curls, letting his head clear. 

 _You can't do that_ , Bilbo tells himself as he goes to his fridge to get things to make hot chocolate. _He is your friend and only your friend—you can't eye him like that!_  

Bilbo was not blind. He knew that Thorin Durin was very pleasing to the eye like he knew that grass was green, that Primula Brandybuck was his best friend, or that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was horrid and everyone that said the two of them were similar was dead wrong. Bilbo knew that Thorin was actually quite an incredible person and genuinely enjoys being around him. And that there was Bilbo's problem. 

The professor was well aware that his feelings for Thorin were not platonic, but that his feelings would never be returned. Now, it wasn't that Bilbo thought badly about himself and he was quite pleased with his appearance, but he was clearly out of Thorin's league. And really, he was more than okay with admitting that.

Sometimes he couldn't help himself with the glances, like today in particular, and he knows that there is nothing particularly wrong with looking, especially with his track record, but when the looking became frequent and was at a friend that Bilbo would quite like to keep, it rather unsettled the thirty six year old when he caught himself doing it. Bilbo knew that now, as an Respectable Adult, he could no longer fix things he used to when he had been younger and more of a risk taker.  

So, trying to cut off his feelings cold turkey while still keeping up a friendship it was.

His thoughts at times definitely did not help at all, naturally.

Bilbo bites the inside of his cheek, focusing on thinking about the milk he's warming up, the steady pitter-patter of rain, and his dogs that are nearly begging at his feet for a treat and most certainly not on the overly too-tall man that is changing into Bilbo's smaller clothes.

He hears the bathroom door open and looks up, choking back a laugh when Thorin steps into the living room in clothes that he got on, but definitely did not fit him.

The shirt that was baggy on Bilbo wasn't baggy on Thorin at all due to his frame. If anything, it was tight. Especially around the arms. And Jesus Bloody Christ, Thorin was so muscular and too handsome to be real probably. He managed to fit into a pair of Bilbo's old sweatpants, but they only reached his mid-calf. The CEO has the towel draped lazily over his long hair, not managing to catch all of the moisture from his hair, a few drop of water wetting the shirt and his visible collarbone that Bilbo's traitorous eyes couldn't help but zero in on. 

In a way, it was oddly endearing.

Hell. Bilbo was definitely going to hell. And he thinks he can accept that, he thinks, as he stirs the milk that is quickly warming up.

"Don't you dare laugh." Thorin grumbles from the living room, looking like a overgrown, petulant child. Just to prove a point, Bilbo lets his laughter pass his lips and takes immense pleasure in how Thorin retreats to one of the wide, rainy windows. 

The rain decides to keep pouring so Bilbo keeps to the sound decision of not staring at Thorin like a lovesick and hormonal teenager and focuses on making the best hot chocolate the CEO has ever had.

And it is that realization that makes Bilbo freeze and lets another laugh escape him. Right now in his living room, there was the CEO of a very well-to-do company that was quickly becoming a household name again, sulking like a little kid and all but pouting because Bilbo had giggled at him. There was a CEO that was easily a foot taller than him in his living room right now, wearing Bilbo's clothes. He had feelings for this man. It was quite baffling. 

He shakes his head in disbelief and pours the slowly warmed milk in mugs he fretched from the cupboard, quickly putting together all the ingredients. He leads himself into his sitting room, flicking on his telly and beckons the older man away from the window where he had been observing the succulents and potted plants Bilbo kept at his windowsill and the foggy, rainy city around them. Thorin settles next to him on the couch, their thighs and knees aligning. Neither of them bother moving their legs, but Thorin gladly accepts the hot chocolate.

They get through one movie and then two, the sky having darkened considerably by the time they are halfway into a third, the rain still pouring, thunder rumbling overhead every now and then. Beorn sits at their feet, Sting on Bilbo's side as usual, and Acorn nowhere to be found for now. It is during a rather suspenseful scene that had Bilbo on the edge of the couch that a loud snore cuts through the movie and makes Bilbo jump at least a foot in the air.

Bilbo turns, eyes a little wild and confused, before his lips curve into a soft smile when he sees the sleeping man on his couch. Thorin looked like a big cat, sprawled out on Bilbo's couch that was, quite honestly, somewhat small in comparison to his large body. He was completely out, snoring every now and then and looking more peaceful then Bilbo had ever seen.

The thirty six year old doesn't have the heart to wake Thorin up, so he does the only thing he can do: he tiptoes to his room and grabs one of the blankets he uses in the colder winter months but as he no longer needed all of them as spring crept closer and closer. He tiptoes back to the front room, and smiles at the endearing scene on the couch.

While Bilbo was in the other room, Acorn decided to join Thorin on the foot of the couch. 

If Bilbo quietly slips his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture before he drapes the blanket over Thorin, minding Acorn and carefully tucking it in so it wouldn't fall off if Thorin tossed and turned a little bit, that was Bilbo's own business.

He goes back to his own room and gets ready for bed with an undeniable smile on his face, Sting following at his heels like she usually does when it's time for bed. If he plans to wake up early and make Thorin a nice breakfast... well, that's also his own business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too sure how I feel about this part, so if you could leave a comment telling me what you think, it would be appreciated!


End file.
